


Skipping

by onemoreklance



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, klance, klance fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 10:22:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16303346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onemoreklance/pseuds/onemoreklance
Summary: "Keith, can I kiss you?”The answer he received was the sweet presence of soft lips on his. Lance thought that Keith kissed like he existed; destructively, powerfully and impossible to ignore.***Where Keith, a sad mess, turns to skipping to forget about it all. Until Lance, a concerned team member, finally confronts him. Fluff ensues.





	Skipping

200, 201, 202, 203... The incessant counting in his head was like a drumbeat, each number a part of a rhythm Keith couldn’t bear to finish. He was gripping onto the handles so tightly that he swore they would shatter, and his breath was ragged, each one a huge effort. But he kept skipping. Why? Because it was the only way he could forget. About his dad, about the burden of defending the entire universe on his shoulders, about the fact that he couldn’t sleep, about the dreaded truth that every day in battle could be his last, about the boy who he knew would never love him back. All he had to focus on was the whoosh of the rope sailing over his head, on the numbers, and on the jumping of his feet. In a way, the aching, heavy feel of his sore ankles was comforting; sure, it was beyond painful, but it made him feel anchored and grounded, a rare occurrence for Keith. 230, 232, 233...

Lance watched from the door of the training room, his eyes glued to the hypnotising movement of the rope. Sometimes, Keith would count under his breath, and the repetitive mantra would reach Lance’s ears. He was on two hundred and what?! This was absolutely ridiculous. But he couldn’t bring himself to confront the other boy. Usually, he had no qualms about telling Keith off. If anything, scolding Keith was almost therapeutic. Today, though, it felt wrong. Keith just looked so... unhappy. Like there was nothing he found comforting, like everything was falling apart. His eyes were closed, but Lance could still see the pained expression he wore, and the way he was clenching onto the skipping rope, as if it was the only thing tethering him to life. Having had enough of watching the anguish of his teammate, Lance walked away, trying his hardest to forget the event and the sadness it stirred in him.

Turns out that he couldn’t forget, and Lance was back the next day watching Keith skip. He sat outside the door, amazed that Keith hadn’t even noticed he was there. Lance didn’t know why he had returned, maybe it was to see if Keith would be skipping again. He had hoped that yesterday was a one-off thing, but the fact that this bizarre, gruelling activity was a part of Keith’s routine was disturbing. Surely there was a way for Keith to deal with his unhappiness that didn’t cause him physical pain? This couldn’t be healthy. As he watched, Lance tried to think of a way to help, but when he ultimately decided that there was nothing he could do—and why would Keith want his help anyway?—he left once more, posture dejected and mind flooding with sad, scattered thoughts.

After watching Keith for a week, Lance couldn’t stand it anymore. He couldn’t remain on the side as his fellow paladin tore himself to pieces every day, even after battle. But what could he do? Standing and hesitantly walking over to Keith, Lance knew that this was a situation in which he would have to improvise, because there was no way he was letting this happen any longer.

It wasn’t until he was a metre from Keith that he was spotted. The sound of the rope halted—finally—and Keith’s eyes snapped open, peering angrily at Lance.

“What are you doing here? I was in the middle of something.”

Cursing quietly, Lance desperately tried to think of what to say.

Somehow, ‘I’ve been watching you at your most vulnerable for an entire week and I just thought I’d say hey’ didn’t seem very fitting.

He watched as Keith narrowed his eyes and dropped the rope, wincing in pain as his hands lost contact. Lance could see that the skin on his palms was red and raw, and fought hard not to wince, himself. Overcome with an inexplicable urge to heal, to eradicate even some of the pain Keith felt, he walked closer and closer to the boy, until he was near enough to grab his hand and gently kissed it, lips tingling even as Keith jumped and pulled the hand away.

“Lance—what? Why would you do that?” He looked shocked and flustered; but there was an undertone of something else Lance couldn’t quite decipher. He remained silent, words failing him yet again. Wow, wasn’t this a trainwreck.

“This isn’t funny. Just leave, okay?”

He heard Keith say.

But how could he leave, when doing so every day for the past week had made him feel so guilty, so useless?

“No,” he muttered, surprised that his lips had let him speak, “I won’t leave. There’s something I gotta do first.”

He looked at Keith’s confused expression, at his purple-grey eyes darting around Lance for some kind of explanation. Now that he looked at them, properly looked at them, Lance failed to think of something more beautiful. What could hold more determination, more power, more life, than the eyes he was looking at now? Nothing could, and that was why he was going to do it. There was no one else he felt so strongly about, no one else he felt something so real for. Keith was the only person he knew who could carry the entire world on his back.

He clasped his hand around the same one of Keith’s he had kissed before, and proceeded to do the same with his and Keith’s other hands. Inexplicably, but fortunately for Lance, Keith didn’t pull away this time.

“Keith, can I kiss you?”

The answer he received was the sweet presence of soft lips on his. Lance thought that Keith kissed like he existed; destructively, powerfully and impossible to ignore.

In that moment, Keith forget about it all again—all the negative thoughts which were usually impossible to shake. He definitely preferred Lance’s lips to the skipping, and decided that this was a much better way to let go of all his troubles. He placed his hand on the other boy’s chest, content with the new rhythm; a heartbeat he would never forget.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Hope you enjoyed this short fic. (I've also posted this on my tumblr, onemoreklance)
> 
> I'll be posting a podfic version here very soon, so look out for that. 
> 
> Thanks :)


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